The First Time

Author's Note: The following

story

contains

a

scene

of

homosexual

sex

between

two

men.

If

this

is

not

your

thing,

then

please

move

along. Special thanks to pilcrowlinea for editing this story and the special input of annacarrington1960.

-

Darktrain

*****

How did it start? Well, I was around nineteen, and my friend Will had come out as gay. We were close, and he wanted company to go to gay clubs as he didn't want to go on his own. Sure, at first I was apprehensive, but after several months, I found I enjoyed it. I liked the fact that there was no pressure and no real pretence to chat women up as most of them were either gay or bisexual with their respective girlfriends. It was a happy environment, very sociable, and although I wasn't attracted to men, I did draw attention. You have never danced, unless you've danced in a gay club. There were some nights I didn't go, and when I returned Will had made more friends.

He would always introduce me like this: "This is Steve... He's straight."

My best friend (who was the reason I had come to know Will) found it difficult to cope with things. He found the whole set-up sleazy. Sure, our friend would come back from the toilets, and the two of us would know what he'd been up to, but for me, that was his choice. Personally I didn't have an issue with it. As long as it was consensual and he was happy, I was cool with it. Sometimes we'd dance for ages; other times, we'd just relax and chat with a group of people we slowly built up friendships with and get drunk. It was all social and just good fun. This was the early nineties. The rave scene in the UK had drawn its last breaths, and the club scene had really emerged.

On one particular evening, my best friend didn't come along, he was working late. We were just socialising and dancing when Will arrived back at the table to tell me he was going home with "Calvin". He called him that because of his underwear! They had been at it a few times over the last few weeks, and tonight he'd been asked to come home with him. It was late, just after midnight, so I wished him all the best and to be safe, and then set my sights on finishing my drink and heading home.

After he had gone I rejoined our social circle. One of those gathered was Mike. He was a guy we chatted to occasionally. He was a tall, well-built, and well-defined man who always got lots of attention. Dark cropped hair, and when I look back now, striking blue eyes. Chiselled strong features and an infectious smile with an equally contagious laugh and sense of humour. He was in his early thirties at the time and he was always really nice to me. He asked me where Will had gone. I told him the short version and he laughed.

"He's left you - a young straight man - all alone in a gay club?" Raising his eyebrows, he stifled his laugh as he drank his beer.

I shook my head at his little joke with a wry smile on my face and sipped my beer. I explained that it was late, I was quite drunk, and I intended on finishing up and heading home.

The group at the table asked if I wasn't going out after. I declined explaining that I could probably have one or two more, but that was it for me. I'm such a lightweight, you see.

Mike turned to the others, laughing. "Oh no! A sensible straight man. What a pity."

There was a fit of giggles from the others at the table. I shook my head laughing at their childish behaviour. Over the next little while I gently finished my drink. Most were discussing where they were going after. Who they had their eye on etc. We all assembled to leave, walking out the front they flagged down a cab to take them. Mike walked up to me.

"Where is home?" he asked. I explained roughly where I lived. "Not far," he said musing. "I'm on the way. Mind if we stay together?"

I only lived about 20 minutes away, and seeing as this was the early nineties, it seemed logical to stay together. There were still a lot of prejudices then. In short, it seemed safer.

We talked while walking up the road, laughing about this and that. The night air was quiet and there was a slight chill in the air. Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, I felt the air begin to bite after a few minutes. We laughed about Will going home with "Calvin" and about what the others might get up to. We saw some groups of guys, but they didn't bother us as we walked out of the city and got closer to where he lived. As we approached his neighbourhood, he mentioned he could have drank more. I nodded but said I could only have drunk a few more, explaining I was already quite drunk.

We stopped at his door, and he slowly rubbed his chin contemplating. I was just beginning to say my goodbyes when he said: "I really want one more. Do you fancy coming up for a drink? I have a few in the fridge, I think. If not, I do have some vodka."

I stood there naively, pursing my lips and thinking it over. Could I handle another? I was quite drunk already...

"I just don't fancy having a drink by myself," he continued as I pondered things.

I stood there for a moment as he looked at me.

Yeah.

Yeah,

I

could

have

one

more.

I motioned my lips, as if tasting. I shivered from the cold. "Yeah, OK" I nodded drunkenly. "Go on then." He gave a warm beaming smile and jangled his keys in front of me and opened the stair and we headed up a few flights. Opening his door we walked in.

I was expecting some shared accommodation, but it wasn't. It was a modern spacious flat. When he flicked on the lights, they were soft and gentle, lighting the place dimly but enough. Plain and white like some show flat, the soft light illuminated the hallway. He showed me to the living room and popped the TV on. Handing me the controls he disappeared. I flopped down onto the couch, and he returned with some vodkas and Coke.

Now, I normally never mix, but it was late, I was a bit drunk, and I thought no harm could possibly come of it. We made small talk, chatting about this and that. What was on the TV ("The Hitman and Her"), what the others were up to and how his night had been.

"Slow," he said softly, "but potentially picking up."

I looked at him slowly, gauging his features. He was staring at me. He'd done this before, several times in fact. But here, in his home, it was different. His eyes, they were hungry. Not intimidating, but attentively looking at me. I sipped my drink, flattered at his blatant attention, chuckling softly, doing my best to laugh it off. A smile curled slowly in the corner of his mouth.

"You see..." he continued, "I've had my eye on someone for quite sometime. I don't think he knows just how much." His eyes were incredibly intense. Almost looking right into me. I didn't say anything but shyly smiled. His grin spread.

Now I'd been hit on before. As I mentioned earlier, I found it flattering. Stating it was not my thing, but flattering. What I neglected to mention was the feeling it gave me. You have to understand: I'm a guy. I was used to giving chase, always asking women if they would like a drink, a dance. It wasn't like that in a gay club. For me it was suddenly reversed. They asked me. They studied me. It was all very alien to me, and to be honest, I found it incredibly exciting. The other thing was, Will had always been there to defuse it diplomatically.

"This is Steve... He's straight."

He placed his hand on my thigh. My heart jumped. I looked down to see him slowly sliding his hand back and forth, rubbing my thigh softly. I brought my eyes up to his.

"I wonder," he said looking into my eyes, "if he's ever thought about it? Thought about what it's like...how it feels."

I could feel my cheeks reddening. My heart raced. I should have pushed his hand away. Stood up. Told him firmly NO. But I didn't. Encouraged by my silence and drunken indecision, he continued.

"Does he wonder about a man giving him his full attention..." His hand was moving up now. Nearing my groin. I was starting to feel myself stiffening. I was also aware of my breathing. It was short and shallow. I tried my best to sip my drink, trembling slightly. The ice tinkled in the glass - almost comically. "This guy... He doesn't know how good-looking he is. Doesn't know that when he's on the dance floor everyone's looking at him. Watching his fabulous ass. A straight man," he shook his head smiling, almost laughing, "has no right having an ass like that."

I looked at him as his hand drifted slowly across my groin. He grinned widely, feeling my arousal and began to pop the buttons to my jeans, shuffling himself closer.

"You're a little hard aren't you?" I blushed crimson. Ashamed, I turned my head away as he slipped his hand inside, rubbing me through my shorts. "Are you enjoying the way I'm talking to you? Would you like my full

attention

?"

The way he said attention gave me butterflies. The drink trembling in my hand, I laid it softly down on the little coffee table beside the couch as I felt his hands slowly pulling down the waistband to my boxer shorts. He was right. I was enjoying the way he was talking to me. Almost ashamed I kept my face turned away from him seeing me. I could feel his warm hands touch my swelling cock, pulling it out.

"My, my," he suddenly whispered in my ear clearly surprised, and pleased with what he saw. I swallowed hard at his words. The way he was talking, acting. Everything was reversed and upside down and inside out. My mind, slowed by drink, my thoughts were sluggish and laboured. At that particular moment I was only aware of what I was feeling and what he was saying. All other things were voided. "Why haven't you told anyone about this beautiful cock?" he whispered as he began to slowly and tentatively kiss my neck, stroking me so agonisingly lightly.

My cock was aching, absolutely aching - beyond hard. I was reeling from shock. Shock at the fact that I was hard in front of another man. Shock at the fact that it was him, and his words making me hard. Shocked at the way he was talking to me and treating me, attentive and desired. To my absolute horror I realised I was groaning. I closed my eyes tight, trying to fight the conflicted emotions in me.

"Do you know what you are doing to me?" he said, almost amused. I shook my head gently, still facing away from him. He took my hand gently and placed it on his groin. I could feel his erection through his jeans. Gently coaxing my hand back and forth over the rather large bulge, he tensed his cock a few times making me feel it's throb and laughed gently at my reaction. His hand left my truly aching cock and a finger trailed up to my jaw, gently pulling my face round to face him. "Do you want to touch it?"

Confused by everything, my eyes must have seemed wild. His eyes though were warm. Caring. I could feel my lips trembling as I tried to speak. I had to look away slightly, just past him. "I... I don't know.." I paused again. "You are so much more experienced in this than me. I'm very drunk. Maybe this isn't the right time..."

He nodded staring into my eyes, perhaps studying my apprehension and fear.

"Time is linear..." he said. "Experiences are timeless." He tentatively pulled my chin back to face him. He was trying to put me at ease.

He was succeeding.

"Ssssshh. I'm not going to hurt you." His warm smile was disarming and very genuine. "I have a suggestion. Why don't you undo my jeans and slide down my boxers. Have a look. Just a little look. See what you have done to me. See the effect you have on me."

The nervous breathing was almost ragged in my chest. I could feel my heart beating in my ears, as he held my shaking hand and guided me to the buttons of his jeans. I popped a few of them slowly, not deliberately slowly, but tentatively.

"Do a few more... That's it."

Looking down I watched the outline of his cock appear gradually with every button I undid, the trepidation and fear slowly ebbing away, replaced with fascination and drunken curiosity. I glided my hand over the outline of his cock gently. I could see spots of pre cum on his red boxer shorts. He felt bigger than me. I'm not small: a decent seven as I always joked to ladies at the appropriate time. I was almost afraid to see it. How far would this go? He took my hand and placed them on the waist band.

"Ease them down..."

It wasn't a suggestion. It was the gentlest of orders. Drunk and hornily curious, I did as I was told. I slowly tugged at the waistband, pulling it forward to expose the tip of his cock and eased them down fully exposing his shaft. He was uncut and indeed was larger than me. The tip of his foreskin gleaming, the top mushroom like. The shaft thick and veiny. I paused taking in the sight of him. It looked very different from this angle I drunkenly mused. I smiled at the silliness of my thoughts and the whole situation.

"Go on..." he whispered lying back and relaxing. He eased his jeans down past his hips slightly. "Do you want to see how it feels in your hands? Touch it if you want."

My shame and horror at what was happening had almost evaporated. As I said, it was gently being replaced by curiosity and wonderment. My hands furiously warm slowly touched him, stroking the shaft lightly and touching the head ever so softly. A spot of pre cum dribbled down from the tip as I eased the foreskin back and forth. He was moaning softly as I fondled him out of pure fascination, watching with drunken abandonment at the head peeking occasionally.

"We could go through to the bedroom..." he whispered. "it's much more comfortable there."

He stood up and held out his hand. I sat for a moment, drunkenly contemplating. His cock standing proudly in front of me. My mind raced. Where would this end? What would happen? Like a rabbit in the headlights I sat there dumb struck as his face softened and he smiled.

"First time?" he asked gently. I bit my bottom lip not looking at him as I nodded. I was in a place where there was a choice to be made. I didn't know what to do.

"Would you like to be told what to do? Would that make it easier?" he paused smiling as he studied me. Looking up at him, I nodded slowly. At that he smiled "Take my hand," an urging gentle order.

I complied holding out my trembling hand. He grasped it tightly, laughing gently and pulled me up. Guiding me through to the bedroom he kissed me on my neck, pulling my T-shirt over my head. He stepped back admiring me in the full light of the room. I suddenly felt very vulnerable as he took in the sight of me, his eyes roaming all over my chest. I have never been proud of my body. It has always struck me as rather too slim, compounded by the fact that I have no hair on my chest. As he pulled off his top, pulling it over his head I saw him fully. There were wisps of hair reaching up from his hard cock to the navel of his belly button. A soft fuzz trailed up from it and just slowly faded. His abdomen wasn't some Adonis's, but it was a man's body. It was defined and somehow hinted at how strong he was. In front of him, I felt weak.

The two of us stood, staring at each other for an agonising moment. For my part I couldn't look at him in the eye. My eyes drifted down to his thick hard cock, gazing shamelessly at it, fearful and intrigued. He smiled slowly and carefully as he caught me looking. Yet somehow I was proud. Proud I had made him hard. Proud he wanted me. He drew closer and slowly turned me around, nuzzling my neck as his big hands began roaming all over me.

"I want to see if that ass of yours is really as good as it looks," he whispered in my ear. "Remove your shoes and socks." I did as he said.

My stomach knotted at the way he talked and my cock throbbed shamelessly as he began sliding my jeans and boxers down.

"Oh yes..." I felt his hands cup my ass, massaging it gently and then more firmly, kneading my cheeks. "Smooth... So soft." I felt a pang of self satisfaction at his admiration for me. "It's even better than I had imagined."

His praise for me had my mind spinning. The whole situation had me so aroused. It was a brand new experience being treated this way. Being seduced and undressed. I moaned softly at his gentle exploratory hands freely feeling my naked body. There was some gentle rustling, as he eased his jeans and boxers down and stepped out of them.

I could feel his erection pressing against my bum cheek as he returned to gently massaging my bottom. It felt so hot and hard. Turning me around slowly he cupped my ass and pulled me to him as our cocks rubbed up against each other. He continued to knead my cheeks as we kissed properly for the first time.

It felt surreal, kissing a man. It was soft at first. Gentle tentative kisses gradually growing more persistent and urgent. Touching each other, stroking each other gently we continued to kiss. I had never felt so...so effeminate. It was a shock to me when I realised that is how all of this felt to me. I only realised this when to my absolute horror I moaned. Not a groan sort of a moan - a fully girly moan. I whimpered. I fucking

whimpered

. I pulled away horrified, staring at him with apprehensive eyes.

"It's okay," he said as he stroked my cheek trying to calm me. "You have a beautiful cock and a truly fantastic, sexy ass. Plus, you're a very good kisser. Lovely mouth." The smile was warm and genuine. He lay down on the bed. "Why don't you use that sexy mouth somewhere else?" Another moment passed as I tried to fight my drunken state. I should have been running out the door, should have been ashamed at what was happening. But I wasn't. He gripped his cock, teasing me.

"Just a kiss. One little kiss," he said smiling mischievously, knowing damn well it wasn't going to be

just

a

kiss

.

The thought of touching it... feeling it in my mouth was dreadfully exciting. How would it feel? What would it make

me

feel? What if he came? I had never touched a man until a short while ago, let alone used my mouth on him. Could I excite him enough? Would I be

good

enough?

"It's easier on your knees," he said with a sly wink interrupting my thoughts and patting the bed.

Cautiously, tentatively I laid down beside him, reaching out to touch it again. On my knees, side on to him, I stroked it softly and gently as my mind raced. Could I? His hand soothed my shoulder, rubbing gently as it moved up to my neck and to the back of my head. Applying pressure he pulled me to it.

"Just one little kiss... Stroke that beautiful cock of yours as you do it."

His cock brushed against my lips, slipping and sliding across them gently as I reached down to my achingly erect cock, tugging it so gently, parting my legs as I did so. I could feel his pre cum eeking out onto my lips as I lowered my head and mouth. Licking my lips I slid my tongue across the head. He drew in some breath, moaning. Encouraged I repeated it, sliding my tongue this time all over the tip. He caressed my ass with one hand, massaging it softly.

"Hold it with your free hand," he said.

Obeying, I did as I was instructed. My free hand wrapping round the base, holding it steady as my mouth slowly opened and I took the tip into my mouth. His hips flexed a little, pushing it in a little more with an encouraging groan. The fullness of his head slid into my mouth. It felt odd. Strange. Yet I was utterly excited by it. Excited by his moans. Seeing him flex his hips filled me with utter desire. I wanted to please him. Please him so much. I had expected it to taste disgusting. It couldn't have been further from the truth. I could taste his arousal. Taste his precum. His desire for me, hard in my mouth had my heart racing.